" The woollen-draper made no answer, but hastily starting up, bolted the door. “Annabel;” he moaned. Then, even as they stood there, the room was plunged into darkness. You must forgive the poet’s license I take. ” She had not, she reflected, remembered how prominent his eyes were. I kept them on myself till the sight of your empty chair and the chill loneliness of it all nearly sent me mad.
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